Haze (41 page)

We both wore boots, joking that we should trade for the evening—and knowing that it would be a genuine disaster if we did. There was no way he could have fit those big feet of his into my tiny boots. His just served to make him even sexier, providing just a hint of
cowboy
to his already-perfect appearance.

After everything was done, we headed into the limo and got comfortable. Jack's equipment was already at the venue, so he didn't need to bring anything along.

Something already told me that tonight would change my life—but at that point, I wasn't quite sure how.

Chapter 22

There was already a line in front of the venue when we arrived, three hours prior to doors opening. Jack had to do a sound check and an abbreviated final run through. Lexy's name was on the marquee above the venue and Jack grinned when he noticed it.

We pulled up behind the venue, entering from a side door that was off-limits to concert-goers. There was a long alley behind the building, one that was fairly desolate and industrial given the part of town we were in.

Jack left me in the lounge as he readied himself for the night, privy to all sorts of tasty snacks and DIY cocktails. I poured myself a rum and Coke and got comfortable.

The primary A&R person at the label, Karla, showed up shortly after I did. She was a couple years older than me, pretty and fiercely enthusiastic, her auburn hair usually styled differently every day. Tonight, it was straightened and flowing along her bare shoulders. I was glad to see someone else in a dress.

We joked around about work stuff, the muffled roar of the sound check in the background as we talked. "This is gonna be awesome," Karla said, as excited as she always was. I didn't know how she did it. Caffeine abuse, maybe?

"I'm really excited too." It was no lie. I had been to shitty shows before, and this was no shitty show.

"A bunch of stuck-up press people are gonna be here too. I can't stand those assholes."

I nodded, not really sure what to say.

"You just wait. Someone will drag Jack through the mud just to be cool, to be controversial and edgy. He'll be furious when he reads the
scathing
review
, and then ten seconds later, he'll be over it."

I nodded. "Oh, yeah. He told me about those people."

"They'll all stand back here sipping cocktails, acting like they really give a damn. But it's just because
pretending to give a damn
is their job. Anyway, I should shut up. Let's just have a good time. More drinks?"

I was okay with that.

We continued to drink until Jack came back and joined us with Lexy and the rest of the band. She sat down beside Karla and me, pouring herself a bourbon on the rocks.

Everyone was goofing around and having a good time backstage. I didn't get every inside joke, but I was okay with that. And thankfully, no one was doing any drugs.

Jack sat next to me, but only for a short while. When he got up to make me a fancy cocktail, everyone else noticed and collectively asked him for their own fancy drinks. Jack just groaned and laughed, turning back to the bottles of liquor and getting to work.

Everyone served, he sat back down and relaxed. "I might be too tired to perform now."

"I hope that's not the case when we get home tonight," I whispered in his ear. He gave me a wicked smile and said nothing further.

The party continued until finally, it was show time. Jack stood up and hugged me. "Here we go," he said happily.

"Figuratively break a leg," I said, my words a little slurred from the alcohol. I was drunker than I had intended, but then again, Jack was the one feeding me the drinks.

Karla and I walked back out to the venue ahead of the band
—I had somehow managed to convince her to join me in the seats—I was amazed when we didn't see a single open seat in the house outside of the front row that was roped off for us. A total transformation from the empty interior we had seen earlier.

Everyone was laughing and talking, all excited to see the main event:
Lexy Brown featuring
The Jack Teller Band
.

I didn't pay to get in like they did, but that didn't mean I was any less thrilled about the show. I
couldn't believe how many photographers were there, scrambling around at the front of the stage to try to get the best possible photo for whatever their hip publication was.

The stage lights dropped, and then
Lexy walked out alone, acoustic guitar in hand, gushing sex appeal. I joined the roar of the crowd, ecstatic about being there for this moment. She did the first song solo, and then as she strummed the final chord, a guitar lead broke out, one that made the audience even wilder.

It was the single—and they were crazy about it
.

Bright lights exploded across the stage as Jack and band joined her. I almost choked on my drink as Jack sprang to life, not unlike a super hero on that stage. I rarely saw him practice guitar, and here he was, strumming away like a pro. His adroit fingers could do it anything, it seemed.

The bass drum rocked the whole theater as everyone joined in. I had never seen a more enthusiastic backing band in my life. Jack switched back and forth between guitar and keyboard duties depending on the song. It didn't matter what he played; he was great. He sang backing vocals too, his voice familiar from my brief foray into his hidden catalog.

They played through a long, full set, the only band on the schedule for tonight.
Lexy had such a huge variety of songs so early in her career. Yeah, it felt like I was watching a seasoned veteran of the industry, not some beginner that Jack was just launching at this very show.

He definitely knew talent when he saw it. Paired with his own abilities, I knew
Lexy was going to be unstoppable.

The band ripped through emotional highs and lows, tender moments, and moments of unremitting rock 'n' roll. Karla and I had a great time watching, dancing occasionally, spouting off compliments that only we heard.

"Jack is so fucking awesome," she shouted at me more than once.

"I know!" It was my very likely inaudible answer each and every time.

I was so captivated that I lost track of time, lost track of the world. I was totally absorbed by this experience. Going on tour sounded like a blast, especially if every night was anything like this. It wasn't clear whether it would still be as fun after a month straight, but I didn't need to worry about that right now.

"I want to thank everyone for coming out. And I especially want to thank Jack Teller. This is our last song."

The crowd roared and I joined in again. Jack gave me an award-winning smile and then started their last song. When it was over, the crowd wouldn't shut up and there wound up being two encores. Honestly, I became as much of a screaming fan as everyone else in that audience. Like them, I wanted
more
too!

Finally, they finished and departed the stage. The crowd slowly started clearing out behind us, and due to our position in the VIP area, the security left us alone. My heart pounded as I realized the genesis I had witnessed. This was a huge day for
Lexy and a huge weekend for Jack and me. The energy in the room was almost a tangible thing, something I could hold in my fingers.

Lexy
eventually came out from the back and was flooded by desperate stragglers looking for an autograph. Security tried to herd them out, but they were relentless. Lexy seemed appreciative, however, and signed whatever was thrust in front of her.

Jack met us on the side of the stage, motioning for us to follow back to the lounge area again.

"How was I?" he asked as I approached him.

I ran up and hugged him, unable to contain my excitement at all. "Fucking hot."

"You're the superficial one! God." He stroked my hair gently.

"You were awesome and talented and brilliant and all that other stuff." I kissed his cheek, the saltiness of his sweat immediately apparent.

Karla stood behind us, acting like she was peeved about our public display of affection. "Is there a problem, Karla?" Jack asked jokingly. I slid to his side, remaining attached to his waist the whole time I moved.

"I'm
just
fine, Jack. And damn good job out there. Haven't seen a better show in ages."

"NYC's finest," he said with a nod. "And now the album is
gonna blow up and make us all rich."

"I hope," Karla mumbled. "I'm
gonna go get more drinks and act like I care what the bloggers have to say."

Jack laughed and smiled as she walked away. "Do you want to party more?" he asked.

I was exhausted, but I didn't want to say anything that might ruin his big night. This was Lexy's premiere show, and I wanted it to be whatever
he
wanted it to be. "I might have one more drink."

"We won't stay too long," he said, as if he had read the quiet tumult of my mind. "A lot of work to do tomorrow. And we still have that
unfinished business
tonight." He hungrily stared at my cleavage and I accepted his glare.

"Never subtle, Jack Teller."

"That's just the way I like it." He pulled the sweaty mat of hair out of his eyes and led us back to the lounge.

It was packed with more people than before the show, and with the inclusion of the very sweaty band members became excessively hot. I had one more drink and clung to Jack's arm, meeting random person after person whom Jack gave me the inside scoop about after they walked away. He didn't seem to trust them much, and I guess with his history, I could understand why.

"Do you want to get going soon?" he asked me during a lull in the action.

"Yeah, if we can." I was feeling genuinely burned out and over stimulated by that point. It was fast approaching one in the morning and no one else looked like they were about to slow down.

"Let me say a couple of quick goodbyes, and then we'll get out of here."

I smiled and kissed his cheek. "Okay. I'm going to go get some air in the alley."

"Just a couple of minutes," he said. "I'll call the limo in a second.

Somehow I escaped that room and crept out into the hallway, retracing the steps I had taken when I arrived. Karla had been the only person I waved to, but she had been tied up in several conversations and missed my polite closing gesture.

The alley was calm and deserted, the night breeze cooling me immediately. Sweat quickly chilled on my brow and reminded me that I should have brought a jacket. Friday night was in full bloom, and in NYC, the party would go all night. We were definitely bailing out early, but with our plans tomorrow, it was a necessary evil.

"Help me!"

What the fuck?
I heard some screaming, a sound that was unmistakably human, but bordered on sounding like an
animal
. I couldn't figure out if it was male or female. My curiosity got the best of me and I tiptoed forward, tracking the source of the sound.
Did someone really need help?

I was cautious, concerned that I might be about to witness something horrible and needed to remain out of view. I wrestled my cell phone out of my purse, dialing 911 and resting my finger just above the call button in case I needed it.

Adrenaline spilled through my body in surges, electrifying my heart beat as I tried to remain calm. Something told me I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I just stood by and let something terrible happen. It was probably just a drunken bum who had fallen over and wanted attention, but I still had to check. What if it was an old man having a heart attack or something? Someone that needed an ambulance called?

What if someone
died
due to my inaction? We weren't in a bad part of town, so it was probably no big deal, whatever it was.

The corner led into another smaller alley, one that wasn't lit like the one I was already in. I gave myself some distance from the wall and kept inching forward, my phone clutched like a sword. All I could hear was the hum of cars in the distance, the scream no longer present. I hoped someone hadn't already died.

When my head peeked around the edge, I saw nothing but black—literally.

I struggled as a nylon sack covered my eyes. My hands forced against the wall, I couldn't keep my fingers around my phone. It fell and settled with a sickening
crack
—and I immediately recalled the last time I had dropped the damn thing. Now I was really in trouble. The assailant didn't seem to notice the inadvertent destruction and remained focused on the task at hand.

A pair of very strong arms dragged me farther into the alley, stopping after there was some distance between us and the first alley. He slammed me up against the wall with a thud. "Help!" I screamed. A hand covered my mouth through the sack, muffling any further sounds. If he kept my mouth covered, it was unlikely that anyone would notice us from outside of the alley.

I was
fucked.

"Don't scream again or I'll fucking kill you!" A knife lightly cut into my arm, just a nick, a reminder that he had the upper hand in every possible way. My eyes started watering, the pain amplified by the sheer terror I was experiencing. Although the adrenaline
did
numb the sensation, the cut—which proved that the knife existed—only served to inform me that I was in genuine trouble.